


Find Someone Else to Help You

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Sick Character, Sick Lance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 04:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A request for the prompt "Find someone else to help you--I'm done." Lance requests Keith's help setting up for a party for Allura and Coran. Lance is in a bad mood from being sick, and a pining Keith gets tired of it and leaves. When the party starts, he finds Lance in bad shape.





	Find Someone Else to Help You

Keith and Lance were setting up for the Altean Winter Solstice party. Though Lance had planned to do all the decorating himself, he’d woken up with a pretty bad headache and a sore throat, and he sort of just wanted to be done with it, so he’d reached out to Keith for assistance. 

Keith was sympathetic when Lance first complained of not feeling well. But he’d sort of expected the whining to die down a bit when he started helping–after all, Keith was the one giving up his time to decorate for an event he couldn’t care less about. He’d really sort of hoped that maybe an afternoon spent decorating with Lance would be lead to a nice conversation, maybe the two of them laughing and joking around, maybe Lance offering to repay Keith for his help by offering to buy him dinner…

“Keith, hold it up more; it’s going to be crooked,” Lance criticized again. Keith took a steadying breath and wordlessly fixed the banner. “And did you fold the napkins into those weird bird things? Allura said it’s traditional.”

“No, I didn’t,” Keith replied, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice. “I’ve been sort of busy.” He gestured to the large banner that he was holding up while Lance taped it. Lance sighed. 

“You’re right. I’m not trying to be critical, I just–I want it to be perfect, you know? For Allura and Coran.” Keith tried to keep that in mind while Lance berated him on the napkin folding. 

Despite feeling irritated at Lance’s crabbiness, Keith was actually having a good time. Most of it was just spent silently enjoying the blue paladin’s company, and that was good enough for him. 

Which is why he bristled when Lance suddenly slammed down a half-folded swan and rubbed his face hard with his hands, moaning, “I just want to be done with this.” 

Keith stood from the table because, well, fuck it. If Lance wasn’t having a good time, then what was the point? 

“Keith?” Lance asked in a rough-sounding voice, looking up at him confusedly. “Where are you going?”

“If you’re not going to appreciate my help, I’m not going to give it,” he snapped. 

“Wait,” Lance called, “What did I do?” But Keith wasn’t having it, and stomped off back to his room.

Lance stood to follow him, but as soon as he was upright, everything started to tilt sideways. He sat back down in his chair and took deep breaths, but it didn’t help–the world was still spinning. But he didn’t have time to sit here and feel sorry for himself–he had a party to make happen. All he could bring himself to do was tape a few more posterboards to the wall and scatter a bit of confetti on the tables before the spinning got overwhelming and things started to dim. Lance staggered over to the couch and lay down, taking out his phone and typing up a text. 

> **Come help**
> 
> **–Lance**

Keith grumbled when his communicator buzzed with a text from Lance.

> **Find someone else to help you–I’m done.**
> 
> **–Keith**

* * *

Keith didn’t see Lance again until it was time to start the party. Honestly, he’d kind of wanted to skip it. He was a bit embarrassed about having gone off on Lance, and didn’t really want to face him just yet, but Hunk had convinced him that he should go apologize. 

When Keith stepped into the living room, he was underwhelmed. Lance seemed to have only done a bit more decorating than had been done when Keith left, and even what he’d done didn’t look great. Things were sort of haphazardly strewn about tables and lazily taped to walls. 

In the middle of it all, Lance was lying on the couch. The chatter of the party started to swell around him, and he knew that he needed to alert someone that he was sick, that he needed help–but when he tried to speak, his throat throbbed. He’d have to get up.

Keith was staring at the lump on the couch that was Lance. Part of him wanted to go talk to him, but he figured that Lance would have come over and demanded an apology if he wanted one, and the fact that he was giving him the cold shoulder meant that he didn’t want to speak with Keith. However, when Lance sat up unsteadily, a bit of worry made a home in the pit of Keith’s stomach. 

That small seed of worry blossomed painfully when Lance took two steps forward and ended up crashing into Pidge, sending them both toppling to the ground. 

“Jesus, Lance!” she shouted, standing and dusting herself off, “Watch where you’re going!”

Lance didn’t move from the ground and she paled. Pidge dropped to her knees next to him. 

“Lance?” she called, shaking his shoulders, “Can you hear me?”

The party quieted. Keith rushed to her side and looked worriedly down at Lance, taking in the feverish flush of his cheeks and the soft, pained whimper that escaped with every few breaths.

“He wasn’t feeling well this morning,” Keith supplied. “But it wasn’t this bad–at least, I don’t think so.”

“Does he have a fever?” Hunk asked. Keith placed a hand across Lance’s forehead and recoiled in shock. 

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, “he’s fucking boiling.”

“Language,” Lance teased in a voice so soft that Keith could barely hear him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Keith accused. Lance frowned.

“I did,” he argued.

Keith’s heart sank. He _had_  said something. He’d been complaining about not feeling well all day, and he’d even sent a text blatantly asking for help–and he’d ignored it. 

“He needs medication,” Allura’s stern voice cut through the silence. “Coran and I will start working on calculating out a human dosage for Altean fever reducers.”

“Sorry, Princess,” Lance croaked, “I ruined the party.” Allura smiled gently.

“We’ll reschedule,” she promised, turning on one heel to follow Coran out of the living room. “Stay with him,” she instructed before she left. “Keep him warm and hydrated, and call us if he gets worse.” 

“Worse how?” Shiro asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Allura hesitated.

“Just… worse. We’ll be back in a tick.” 

As soon as she was gone, Keith and Hunk maneuvered Lance onto the couch while Pidge and Shiro ran off in search of water and blankets.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Hunk sighed, nursing a cool cloth on Lance’s forehead. Lance smiled weakly.

“You love me,” he said sloppily. “Sorry for whatever made you mad earlier,” he apologized, turning to Keith. Keith flushed red. 

“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed him off. “It wasn’t your fault, anyway.”

“Keith only got mad because he has a crush on you,” Hunk blurted, smiling when Keith punched him in the arm. “What? It’s time he knew.” Lance blinked a few times. 

“You’re going to have to re-tell me that when the fever breaks,” he warned, “unless this is some kind of hallucination.”

Keith avoided his eyes. “It’s not,” he admitted. 

Lance reached out for Keith’s hand and squeezed it as a reply, and Keith couldn’t help but smile.


End file.
